


shooting yourself in the foot (... or not)

by AthanatosOra



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Post-Canon, also tsuna being somewhat brain-addled and a smartass, reborn and tsuna are on equal levels of sass now, someone stop me I like snarky!older!tsuna too much, warnings for mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthanatosOra/pseuds/AthanatosOra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And as Tsuna looks between his steadily bleeding foot and Reborn, he decides, "<i>Definitely</i> not."</p>
            </blockquote>





	shooting yourself in the foot (... or not)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://athanatosora.tumblr.com/post/145505403002/shooting-yourself-in-the-foot-or-not). I was sitting at a starbucks at midnight when I suddenly thought of the phrase, "shooting yourself in the foot," and thought of Reborn. It led to this.
> 
> (I'm cheating, I haven't written anything new in a long while, this is from months ago OTL)

Tsuna stares at his foot, expression relaxed with a hint of curiosity.

... Even with the other, much more _horrified_ stares from his family, being directed at the same foot.

"Reborn,” Tsuna begins, lifting an eyebrow at the man, whose expression betrays nothing. “You... just shot me in the foot.”

Hayato emits a sound that sounds suspiciously like a squeak in the background. Tsuna turns his attention back to his foot, now frowning slightly.

It had all started with a simple inner-Famiglia spat.

One of the northern branches of Vongola had involved itself with a much smaller Famiglia in the same territory, agreeing to a sort of exchange of information and resources. _That_ ended up falling through, as both sides grew more and more aggressive over said resources and even began to fight over the territories shared.

Tsuna had never signed or authorized the transactions in the first place, wherein laid the first problem. The second problem was how the transactions had gone to, excuse the language, utter _shit_. And the third problem had been, of course, to actually _deal_ with the resulting discord that had occurred due to blatant disregard of proper procedures.

So he did.

He personally made a visit to Milan, and… Well, in essence, beat the crap out of five rioting stragglers, scared the piss out of about thirty-two Mafiosi, and smiled threateningly at the man he had previously left in charge of the northern branch as said man _peacefully resigned_ from his post, as the load was far too much for a middle-aged man with a wife and two kids.

(Tsuna was never going to do anything remotely harmful to them, of course. It’s the man’s fault for interpreting Tsuna’s off-handed comment of “taking them out” for the brutish, far less kindly meaning instead of what Tsuna actually meant.

There had been a newly opened restaurant in Milan he wanted to go to, and he had simply thought it the perfect opportunity.)

So, yes, Tsuna had decided to be a good boss and handle the situation personally.

(No, he hadn’t _really_ run away from paperwork. Even if he had coincidentally been particularly tired with it that day.)

Of course, his family hadn’t been too happy about his decision to skip the appropriate steps and handle the situation himself. The biggest issue had, of course, been the matter of his safety.

And when he got back home, it led to a heated argument between him and each of his guardians, followed quickly by a much more threatening disagreement with his ex-tutor and current internal advisor.

Who told him the exact words, “doing this is basically shooting yourself in the foot,” before firing off a warning shot that happened to lodge itself in Tsuna’s foot.

(Fourteen-year-old Tsuna would have yelled and decided to hole up in his room in a sorry attempt to escape from the madness. The current one is still staring curiously at his foot.)

Reborn’s face is blank - save for the slight widening of his eyes - as he finally tears his gaze away from the blood pooling on Tsuna’s Ferragamo loafers.

“… I know you are more than capable of avoiding my bullets, now,” he says, frowning at Tsuna. “You could have dodged that.”

Tsuna gives a slow, distracted shrug, eyes glancing between Reborn and his steadily bleeding foot. “I. Well, yes, I could have.”

“But clearly you didn’t.”

He blinks as he looks up, offering a lopsided and slightly sheepish smile.

“Well, I trust you. I trust you and I know you would never purposely hurt me beyond what I am capable of enduring. Which is true, isn’t it?”

Reborn remains the picture of bemused stoicism, but he does eventually give a slow nod.

“Right.” Tsuna nods to himself. “I guess I just forgot to factor in your spartan methods. I suppose my strain of trust in you isn’t exactly healthy though, considering…” He makes a pointed glance to his foot. “… that.”

It is then that Tsuna’s guardians suddenly spring into action - Gokudera ushering him to the couch to lie down, Chrome disappearing for a blink and reappearing with a first aid kit, and Yamamoto throwing a jacket over him.

Or, well, some of his guardians, at least.

Lambo is out visiting Basil, thankfully, as he is the one most squeamish when it comes to family and injury, and Ryohei is out on an assignment. This means beautiful, peaceful, silence.

Hibari is somewhere in the estate, probably drinking green tea. Or possibly with Mukuro, as they both try to beat the attitude out of each other. Regardless - _peaceful silence_.

(...Though, considering the fact that there are no tremors and explosions denoting the systematic destruction of their home, he supposes the latter possibility is unlikely. He can't really bring himself to care about the semantics right now.)

Eventually, Tsuna tires of the pampering and attempts to kick everyone out of his office. His guardians relent, but Reborn levels the unimpressed glare his attempt deserves.

“You really want to try working with a bullet in your foot?”

(Yes, Tsuna realizes that the only reason why his guardians gave up so quickly was because they knew they could trust Reborn. And yes, he _also_ realizes that he might be a bit delirious, thinking that he should get back to work with a bullet lodged firmly in his foot.

He has spent ten years, ten long, _insane_ years with these people. He feels that it is his prerogative to be a bit crazy himself.)

Tsuna sighs as he glances over at Reborn, who has removed the bullet and is currently healing the wound with a very put-upon look.

“Well,” Tsuna says, smiling as dark eyes narrow in his direction. “I guess I won’t be ‘shooting myself in the foot’ anytime soon. Not when I have you to do it for me.”

Tsuna supposes he maybe deserves the kick to the face that follows his comment.

(But only a little bit. His sass is 100% learned from the man himself, after all.)


End file.
